Formalities
by ThatClutzsarahh
Summary: A disappearance turns into a dangerous game with devastating results
1. Chapter 1

**So this is my first ever criminal minds fic! I've been toying with this idea for a long time, i just haven't been able to put it down I tihnk you'll like it personally, and i promise it will get much better after this chapter. So without to much interuption, i give you the story!**

**Oh and a little note, i haven't decided if i wanted to cross it over with something else or not, i'm leaning towards not crossing it over, but with where it goes, it'd cross easily with fringe. but i doubt it'll happen, so don't worry.**

Formalities

The sun was bright and high in the sky. There was no break from the relentless heat that was abnormal for such a location. It became unsettling. The sun radiated in waves from the cement and blacktop of the high school parking lot. There were cars parked in spots still, others empty, school had long since been let out. The scene remained a perfect recluse as well as a gruesome reminder and the tape of the crime scene had been let away to provide access for the large glinting SUV's of the FBI's BAU.

Agent Hotchner was the first on location and, as a father himself, the scene was more than a case, it was more than heartbreaking, it was enraging. With a face that never smiled and a pair of standard FBI sunglasses that never left their place, the man surveyed the damage, the number of deaths much larger than the number of cars still left in the parking lot. He wondered how he was able to keep his lunch down when so many had already up-chucked their meals.

Agent Rossi was the second to arrive and he had first been intrigued by the private college preparatory perched perfectly over the wetlands that were nestled at the base of Mt. Nott. He was reminded of his public high school, the absence of religion as a guide or the guarantee of acceptance into a 4-year university. After his slight distraction he had joined Hotch in the student center to survey the damage. Horrific was the first word to pop into his head, a bloody inexcusable massacre of students all for one girl, just one single teenage girl…

High school looked identical to Emily as the place she was at. She remembers the name of this school from her days, and even though an entire country literally separated the schools, this school was top of line of the top of line. She would have died to go here. But standing in the student center among the mass of nearly 60 bodies, her whole demeanor changed. Sympathy for students caught up in violence dissipated with the sight and she couldn't comprehend what would prompt someone to take out a mass such as this with one clean sweep. However it was that was taken must have been important to someone, or she wronged someone in some way-

"Her name is Evelyn Lexington," Garcia announced over the phone to Morgan. Reid was sitting with him, set up in San Fransisco's FBI field office, "And she's the Evelyn Lexington."

Both Morgan and Reid knew the Lexington name well. In fact, every car driving American knew the Lexington name. The Lexington name was infamous, it was legendary, and, after the inexplicable slaughter of the mother, father and older brother in Greece by the Russian mob nearly two years earlier, Evelyn was the 18-year old heir to the oil company that remained to her. And quite and heir she would be. But it didn't matter now because the heir was the subject of a kidnapping, a disappearing act of violent nature-

"Garcia, do you know if she had a keeper or a nanny or maybe an attorney, someone that looked after her?" Morgan asked, eyeing the printer, waiting for the elusive Lexington heir's photo to come through. She had never been scene before and she appeared to be a family secret that had been cast into the limelight. She had managed to keep her face hidden she appeared not one for cameras-

"Yes, Garcia answered, "A Jonathan Kempt," she added, "He was her legal guardian, assigned to her by the family's attorney in the will. He lives at her estate in Napa Valley."

"Great Garcia," Morgan answered in a smile, "Could you get me an address-

"It'll be waiting in the fax machine with her photo," she said in a flirty tone. Morgan couldn't suppress a smile on his face. He clicked the phone off as Reid answered the fax machine.

"Wow," he mumbled, looking at her photo, "That's why she didn't want to be seen."

At first glance or from fair away she was very much model like, a goddess in the making. But the long grotesque scar that ran from above her left eye and disappeared under the v of her shirt made anyone think twice about staring to long. The photo, printed in black and white, clearly showed the scar had altered the eye color of her left eye dramatically. But even with the long narrow scar, her inner beauty and personality lit her features with perfection, making her easily a beauteous young girl.

"We should go see her guardian," Reid said, putting down the picture for Morgan to pick up. He shook his head.

"She's so young," he commented, "What the hell happened to her?"

"We should ask," Reid murmured, picking up his jacket. Morgan nodded and picked the address up off the table before flipping out his phone to dial Hotch.

Agent Hotchner answered his phone as he picked his way over three bodies and to the balcony of the center.

"Her name is Evelyn Lexington," Morgan said. Hotch leaned over the glass balcony and sighed. All this for her?

"The Lexington?" Hotch asked, although he knew.

"Yeah," Morgan answered, "Reid and I are on our way to see her guardian, but Hotch you've got to know something."

"What Morgan?" he sighed.

"There's something fishy with this case," he said, "Something doesn't sit right, the pieces don't add up."

"Yeah," Hotch said, turning back to the massacre of students He hung up the phone and stuffed back into his pocket before returning to look out over the football field. It was only moments before Rossi joined him.

It was quiet at first, the intensity of such a massacre affecting both men differently. Hotch felt rage, passion, anger towards the men that could slaughter a high school so easily for one girl. But Rossi he felt confliction, calamity, and the strange sense that something was missing. He couldn't place his finger on it, but there was something missing.

"So what is the cause of death, Hotch asked, his signature scowl on his face.

"The coroner doesn't know for sure, but he thinks it was a toxin," Rossi shrugs, "I was going to head over there with the first batch of bodies."

"All right," Hotch nodded. Rossi was quiet, the unspoken question hung in the air between them.

"I'll be all right," Hotch said, gazing out over the football field. The sun was eerily hot for this time of year here. It was high in the sky and weighed down on their black suits.

"I know," Rossi shrugs, "Something about this case doesn't sit right with me."

"Me neither," Hotch agreed, "It's sickening."

"Not just that," Rossi said, "There is more to this. This wasn't just a kidnapping, the UnSub has something to say."

"You think?"

"Yeah, I just don't know what it is yet."

**Okay, so tell me, yay or nay?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Good news! No crossover! Even better news, no popular pairings, just a good ole fashioned who-dun-it case! It's just a little bit intense! (or a lot)**

**

* * *

**

Chapter Two

The house was a size that easily rivaled the white house. It was a castle, nestled within the rolling hills of Napa Valley, hidden from the road by a long secluded driveway that wound its way narrowly through the hills until rolling up on a set of black gates that let just a minute peek of the palace for viewing. The sand colored cobblestone started where the pavement ended and a large Spanish style fountain in the center of the drive with warm looking blue water spouting upwards into a stylish jet. The place was immaculate.

"For such a need for seclusion, the place screams arrogant," Morgan commented under his breath as he rolled his window down for the guard. He flashed his badge. "FBI," he said. The gate man nodded and pressed a button to open the gates allowing the car to pass through. Pulling up to the house, it looked much larger than it had from behind the gates. The place was well kept and it showed no signs of neglect.

"Either Evelyn has OCD or she's got a staff working on this place 24/7," Morgan muttered as he turned the engine off. Reid was not listening, only gazing upon the place in awe. He climbed out of the SUV and shut the door, squinting into the mass size of the place in front of the sun.

"I don't think that keeping a place groomed would constitute OCD," Reid commented idly. Morgan rolled his eyes before climbing up the steps and knocking on the large double doors of the place. Reid answered his phone as it rang.

"Reid," he answered. Rossi was on the other line.

"They all inhaled Napalm," Rossi said in a grim voice, "All 60 students inhaled a strain of Napalm."

"What do you mean 'strain'?" Reid asked, thinking about the poisonous gas.

"That's the main gas that was dispersed, but there was another blend of gases that was added, some chloroform and some other gases that should have killed everyone in the place."

"Did it just disappear afterwards?" Reid asked while Morgan talked to a man at the door. The man looked like a butler.

"That's weird part," Rossi said, looking over the coroner as he was crouched over a body, "It was released and then disappeared within a matter of 5 minutes."

"So, if you left the center for those five minutes and then came back, you'd be fine?" Reid asked confused.

"It appears so," Rossi said.

"What about Evelyn?" Reid asked as he headed through the house, "How did she manage to get out alive."

"I have no idea," Rossi answered, "Are you at the house?"

"Yes, we just got inside, we're on our way to see Jonathan Kempt, the guardian."

"All right, I'm almost done here, I'll see what else I can get from here and then I'll meet up with JJ."

"Okay," Reid answered and snapped his phone shut. Just then Morgan turned to Reid.

"He's in the east sitting room," he said in a mock tone. Reid just nodded as the butler led the way. He halted at a pair of heavy looking doors and pushed them open.

There was a slight man sitting in a chair by the window. He was narrow and petite looking, his hands holding his head in them and one ankle draped loosely over one knee. His whole position was that of worry and discomfort. The butler cleared his throat and the man jumped, standing swiftly and facing them. He wiped his palms on his slacks and straightened his tie. His clothes were wrinkled, suggesting he'd been sitting there for a while.

"Can I, uh, what can I do for you?" the man stuttered and Morgan was shocked to hear the heavy British accent on his voice.

"Jonathan Kempt?" Morgan said, extending his hand, "My name is Special Agent Derek Morgan and this is Dr. Spencer Reid of the FBI's behavioral analysis unit. We'd liked to ask you a few questions about Evelyn, is that all right?"

The man ran a hand through his thing blonde hair, making his shirt stretch over his body. He was very thin underneath his white button shirt and black tie. He gestured to the chairs across from his.

"Please, have a seat," he said sitting himself, "I'm sorry for the state I'm in, it's just, it's been quite hard around here since I got the news."

"I understand," Morgan said. He was just about to speak until Reid asked him a question.

"Were you close with Evelyn?" he asked, folding his hands on his knees. Jonathan looked taken back and shook his head slightly before smiling.

"Of course," he said, "Very close. We spent every minute of our time together."

There was something in his tone that told Morgan he should ask the next question.

"Mr. Kempt, were you romantically involved with Evelyn?"

"What?" he said, "Of course we were she was my fiancé."

The room was silent for a moment before Reid spoke.

"Fiancé?" Reid questioned. The man smiled.

"I know what you're thinking, I really do. It's strange," he said, "But as you see, this isn't the most traditional of families. But there was one thing this family was very traditional about, marriage. We were pre-arranged to marriage when she was born. I'm only about three years older than her."

"How did you two meet?" Morgan asked, slightly stunned by the notion of arranged marriages.

"We didn't. I was told on my eighteenth birthday that I was moving to California from England to live with my future wife. I was told that I was already engaged to her from the moment of her birth. So I was flown out here to meet her about three years ago."

"And what was your first impression?" Reid asked, wanting to get the story.

"I, of course, hated her," he said, running a hand through his hair, "She's not like other girls, I'll tell you now, she's different. It's like she's got no remorse for what she does, she's just a cyclone of destruction."

"What do you mean?" Morgan said

"Well," Jonathan answered, "When I met her I thought she was naïve and she's just that, but there's more to her than meets the eye. She's brilliant. Her IQ is off the charts I remember the last test measuring it at 216. She's crazy brilliant and that makes her a threat to herself. She does things because she can, it's like she has no control, if an idea pops into her head she acts on it. Some of her ideas are amazing, but some are creepy, strange and they often time reflect her moods. For example, she created a candy once when she was happy that gave me no sleep for 31 hours. But when she's upset she creates bombs and poisons and I have to stop her."

Reid and Morgan looked at each other.

"So," Morgan asked, "Who would want to take her?"

Jonathan sighed, "I don't know. Anyone who knows how brilliant and crazy she is. I don't know who would want to handle such a head strong woman like her."

"Headstrong?" Reid quipped. Jonathan nodded.

"She doesn't need help. When she first found out we were getting married, she did everything to get me to do nothing. She doesn't like being shown she's weak-

"She's proud," Morgan said smugly.

"Exactly," Jonathan continued, "She just wants to be left alone to do her own thing. She doesn't care about opinions of others. She also has a really creepy way of playing the parts people want to see from her. Like she can read them with one glance."

Morgan felt the buzzing in his pocket and stared at the phone. He glanced up at Reid.

"Well Mr. Kempt," Morgan said, "Thank you for your help."

He stood and shook each of their hands before leading them to the door. He stopped them for a moment.

"Agent Morgan, Dr. Reid," he said, "There's one more thing. She doesn't like being not in control and I'm scared, bring her back safely."

"We'll try," Morgan nodded. Jonathan shook his head.

"No you don't understand," he said, "I'm not scared of what's going to happen to her. If she gets free, which she will, she'll be able to do anything and I'm scared for them, for what she's capable of."


End file.
